


Together

by heartandthehead



Category: Bellarke - Fandom, The 100 (TV)
Genre: Anomaly - Freeform, Canon Divergence, F/M, Oneshot, Short, The 100 (TV) Season 7 Speculation, The 100 - Freeform, but i had no idea what else to write so, i guess?, i hate jason rothenberg, season 7, seriously itll never happen, this will never happen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-21
Updated: 2020-05-21
Packaged: 2021-03-02 17:08:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,133
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24300358
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heartandthehead/pseuds/heartandthehead
Summary: Bellamy comes out of the anomaly having heard all of Clarke's radio calls. They reunite, both realizing they can't live without the other. This is a really short oneshot and basically what I wish would happen after seeing episode 1.
Relationships: Bellamy Blake/Clarke Griffin
Comments: 4
Kudos: 91





	Together

**Author's Note:**

> this was written in two hours and completely unedited so don't make fun. its also for clowning purposes only bc obviously this will never ever happen ever in a million years.

“Bellamy, if you can hear me, if you’re alive, it’s been 2,199 days since Praimfaya. I don’t know why I still do this every day. Maybe it’s my way of staying sane, not forgetting who I am. Who I was. It's been safe for you to come down for over a year now. Why haven’t you?”

Bellamy sits in a little room, the same room he has sat in for over six years. No food, no water; he doesn’t need it. Somehow, he stays alive with nothing but a little bed, a one-way radio, a desk, and a bathroom. In a way, he realizes it resembles his old home on the arc. It’s much emptier, though. There’s no space under the floor for his sister to hide under. There aren’t two beds, one for his mom and one for him. It’s like they never existed. And the more he thinks about them, the less he knows. 

He shaves his face every morning, or what he thinks is the morning. He takes a shower, then a nap, then wakes up to the sound of Clarke’s voice over the radio. After he writes his response, he tries to work through the anomaly. 

Each time he thinks he has it figured out, a new obstacle arises in his path. He forgets something he learned yesterday. If there’s one thing he remembers, it’s that the anomaly seems to wipe clean the memories it doesn’t want him to have. No matter how hard he strains, he can only remember the basic details. Who his family was. The names of his friends. Clarke.

Clarke is different, though. He remembers everything about her. Somehow, this little radio has transmitted one radio call a day. That, he remembers. He remembers how she would call him once a day in the years they were separated, because the anomaly has decided to show each one to him. 

He didn’t realize what they were at first. They started off sad, with her explaining how lonely it was on the ground. When she found Madi, the calls became happier. She would explain their days to him, how they would hunt and swim and gather berries. She would explain how much she missed him and the others. How, despite having Madi, it would get incredibly lonely. And every day, Bellamy wrote down a response.

The anomaly seemed to provide him an unlimited supply of notebook paper––there’s another part of it he still hasn’t worked out. He has hundreds of pages of notes taped to his walls, all labeled with a number. They are one of the few things that remain consistent. When he starts to forget, he only has to read through his responses for his memories to be triggered. 

He thinks back to when they first met, how petulant he had been and how responsible she was. He thinks of her smile, the way she would roll her eyes when he called her “Princess.” He thinks of how they pulled the lever at Mount Weather together, and she accepted the blame for him. How she left him, and how he left her. He remembers every moment, because they are the only moments he has. When everything else fades away, he can feel the presence of her touch in his hands. He can feel her warmth pressed against his chest. She is the only thing he has. 

He pulls out a blank sheet of paper, and writes down his response:

_ Clarke. I know you can’t read these, and you’ll never be able to. It’s been 2,199 days since I was taken into the anomaly. Unlike you, I guess I do know why I do this every day. It’s my way of staying sane, of remembering who  _ you _ are. I don’t know if you’re looking for me. I don’t know if I’ll ever find my way out of here. But when I do, I want to see you again. I hope you haven’t forgotten me. You are all I have.  _

He tries to scavenge his memory for whatever else he has. He looks at the walls, thinking of some of the names she mentioned. Murphy. Raven. Emori. Echo. He knows these names, but he doesn’t know why they matter. Clarke has talked about them a little, but not enough.

He sits back in his chair, deciding to pick up one of the drawings he started before. He was never an artist; that was always Clarke. However, spending six years trying to perfect one person’s face really gives an artistic side to a person. What else does he have to do?

Bellamy has tried escaping the room––that doesn’t work. He has tried everything, from pounding the walls in to breaking the legs off his desk to make some kind of tool to pry through the floor. None of it works. Every time he wakes up, the room resets. The only thing that remains consistent are the notes that line the walls. 

He has even tried to end his life. It has gotten dark in here, so dark that he doesn’t see a way out. It never works. It’s like the anomaly protects him from any kind of pain. So he is stuck here, for what seems like eternity, with nothing but Clarke’s voice to guide him through. 

In this time, he has realized one thing: he loves Clarke. He has known this for years, but being trapped here has solidified it for him. Maybe it’s because she’s the only person he can remember. Or maybe he remembers her  _ because _ he loves her. 

Suddenly, the wall near his bed opens up, a green mist surrounding the hole. The notes on the wall dissolve as the hole grows bigger. He rushes to it, the mist almost burning his eyes. He hasn’t seen this much color in years. When he nears it, it sucks him in, collapsing the room behind him as it does so. He falls to the ground, feeling something completely unfamiliar under his fingertips: grass. Living, plush grass that spreads through his hands and under his knees. He peels his eyes open, and the light from the sun burns through his retinas. 

He tries to think about the room, but everything is gone. The harder he thinks, the more he forgets. The only thing he remembers is the radio. Every call. He remembers that. He remembers that he spent six years in there, but the time is gone, as if he was only there for a moment. 

Bellamy brings a hand to his eyes, shielding the light from the sun. His ears are ringing, but he can hear voices calling out to him. 

“Bellamy?”

“Oh my God, it’s him!”

“Bellamy, can you hear us?”

When his eyes adjust, he sees a group of people maintaining a distance between him. His memories come flashing back. He sees Murphy and Raven and Emori, and he remembers every moment he spent with them on the arc. He sees Echo, his girlfriend, who sports an entirely new facade. But he doesn’t care about her, not when he sees the person standing directly next to her. 

Bellamy rises to his feet, stumbling a bit; his legs aren’t used to the feeling of uneven ground. He begins to run as fast as his feet can take him. The wind blows through his hair. He only has one thing in mind, and that’s taking Clarke into his arms. He rushes past Echo, grabbing Clarke as tightly as he can and lifting her off the ground. 

At first, Clarke seems confused, as her arms linger behind his back. Then, she wraps her arms around his neck, burying her face into him and wrapping her legs around his torso. He can feel the tears beginning to stream down his face as he feels her warmth in his arms; it’s just like he remembered. It’s the only thing he has wanted to feel in six years. 

When he puts her down, she brings her hand to his cheek. “You look… different.”

He laughs for the first time in years. “Six years does that to a person.”

“Six years?” she asks, bewildered. “You spent  _ six years _ in there?” 

“Six years and seven days, to be precise,” he laughs. 

“That’s…” 

“2,199 days confined to a little metal room. I guess I know how it feels now, huh?”

Clarke shakes her head. “How did you remember? The rest of them remembered nothing.”

“You. Your radio calls. I heard all of them, one a day.”

Clarke’s happy expression turns solemn. She looks exactly like he remembered, with her blonde curls and green eyes. She has a few cuts and scratches running along her body, but there was never really a time when she didn’t. 

“I’ll be right back,” he tells her, realizing there are other people he needs to see. 

Bellamy walks over to Echo, whose eyes are cast to the ground. Unlike Clarke, she doesn’t look particularly elated to see him. Judging by her shortened hair, she must have spent some time in the anomaly, too. 

He awkwardly stands in front of her, shuffling his feet in the dirt. “I don’t know what to say––” 

“I looked for you in the anomaly. When I got out, I helped them search for you for days. We didn’t know if you were dead or alive,” she spits out.

“I’m sorry,” Bellamy utters, not knowing what else to say. It must be clear to her that his time there has changed his priorities. He didn’t even give her a second glance when he got out. 

She shakes her head. “I realized something when I was in there. When I was searching for you, you weren’t looking for me. You never were. I followed you; I thought I loved you. But I could never love a person who never felt the same about me.”

With that, Echo storms off. Bellamy catches a glimpse of a tear rolling down her cheek before she walks toward the forest clearance. Then, he turns to the rest of the group, who stare at him uncomfortably. 

“That was awkward, huh?” Murphy comments. He pulls Bellamy into a loose hug, patting him on the back. Emori and Raven do the same. “You couldn’t have picked a worse time to come back.”

“What happened?” Bellamy asks. 

“Clarke can explain later. We have a few days before everything goes to shit,” Raven says. 

“Where is Octavia?”

Murphy sighs. “She can explain that one, too.”

The group heads back to the castle, Bellamy taking in each piece of scenery that passes by him. Leaves, flowers, dirt, animals. Everything feels new and fresh. He stays a bit behind the group, as they know he needs to regain his footing in this world. 

When they enter the castle, Bellamy sees a long table filled with food. He suddenly feels very hungry, as if he hasn’t eaten in six years. He must’ve had food in there, right? He can’t remember anything, anymore. All he knows is that the roast is glistening in a way that makes him immediately grab a plate. 

He loads up his tray with an array of foods, some familiar, some new. Then, he spots Clarke sitting at one of the circular tables in the corner of the room. He eagerly walks toward her, wanting nothing more than to be in her presence. 

“Hey,” she says, softly. Bellamy loves the way the words roll off her tongue so elegantly without radio static in the way. 

She has changed into a black gown, the same one she wore a while back. He didn’t say it then, but he says it now. “You look beautiful.”

Clarke seems taken aback at his statement. She gulps, and a blush rises to her cheeks. “Of course you would say that, you haven’t seen anyone else in years.”

“I mean it.”

She pauses for a moment, casting her eyes down to her food. “I’m sorry about you and Echo.”

“Don’t be,” Bellamy throws back. “I had a lot of time to think in there.”

“Oh yeah?” She smiles.

“What else did I have to do? All I had was the radio and a bathroom.”

She points at her chin, and her smile grows. “I’m guessing that’s why you changed up your look?”

“What else did I have to do? You should’ve seen how long it got before I shaved it off, it was horrible.”

“I think I’m glad I didn’t,” Clarke laughs. “Do you want to go somewhere more quiet?”

Bellamy nods, quickly shoving some food down his throat before they leave. He tries not to seem like a slob, but he can’t help it. Clarke just laughs at him as he finishes off his plate. Then, they walk outside to a swing that overlooks the valley. In the distance, they can see children playing in the sand and Picasso running around them. The suns are setting, casting a warm hue on the trees. The wind whistles a soft hum as it blows around them. They sit silently next to each other, but it isn’t awkward or tense. It feels… comforting, for both of them. 

“Murphy said something bad was coming,” he says, breaking the silence. “Great thing to come back to.”

“Something bad is always coming,” she jokes. “I’d rather not think about that right now, not when I just got you back.”

“Where’s Octavia?”

She turns her head to him. “Safe. Not with us, but she’s safe. Hope and Gabriel are with her. I don’t know where, but you really have nothing to worry about. We meet with them in three days.” Clarke reaches over and grabs Bellamy’s hand. “You have nothing to worry about. I promise.”

Bellamy nods. He slides his fingers into hers, connecting their hands at the palms. This moment is everything he missed. It’s everything he never had with Echo. With her, life was a constant battle. Even in the good moments, there was always something to worry about. With Clarke, it is the opposite. Being with her is a break from all of the bad in the world. When he is alone with her, he doesn’t need to think about anything else. He doesn’t need to worry about anyone else. 

“So… you listened to every radio call, huh? That’s… embarrassing,” she says through a laugh. “Half the time I was sending those, I knew you wouldn’t respond. That’s why I said some of the things I said.”

“Would it be less embarrassing if I told you I responded to every single one?”

“You didn’t,” she says, shocked.

“I did. That’s how I remembered being in there. You. Every day, every call… it sounds crazy, but you kept me sane.”

Clarke brushes her hair behind her ear. “Not crazy. A little pathetic, maybe,” she jokes, mimicking what he said about her before. 

“Like I said before, I had a lot of time to think in there,” Bellamy starts.

“What did you think about?”

He pauses. “You, mostly.”

Clarke whispers, “Bellamy…”

“I realized something. It took me way longer than it should have, but I finally realized it. All this time, you’ve always been there for me. You’ve saved me more times than I can count. After being six years apart, it felt like we didn’t miss a single day. I’ve known you for over a hundred years. And no matter who I’m with, you are the only person I can worry about. 

“You said something to me a while back. ‘We didn’t like each other at first.’ I guess that isn’t true. I always liked you. I guess I wasn’t very good at showing it, but I admired you. Your ability to lead people without trying, your bravery, everything about you. And I sat there and watched you fall in love and have your heart broken over and over again without doing anything.”

Clarke’s light eyes stare into Bellamy’s intently. She moves closer to him on the swing, their hands still interlocked. A tear rolls down her cheek lazily, but she brushes it away quickly. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying what I finally realized there: I love you. I’m in love with you, and I have been ever since I met you.”

Clarke stares at him, saying nothing in response. Her mouth hangs slightly ajar, her lip quivering. Bellamy brings his free hand up to her face, wiping away the tears that threaten to spill from her eyes. 

In an instant, Bellamy realizes he can’t make any more mistakes with her. He needs to let her know how he truly feels, how he has felt for all this time. He tilts her chin up and brings her lips to his. The kiss is short and delicate, but the feeling lasts as he pulls back. When he looks into her eyes, they are searching his, scanning his face back and forth and falling down to his lips. Then, with little hesitation, she pulls him back in, this time more forcefully. She crashes her lips into his, pulling him in even closer. His heart skips a beat when he realizes his emotions aren’t one-sided.

As their lips move in unison, Bellamy feels a type of joy he has never felt before. She tastes so sweet on his lips, something new that he has desired for a lifetime. He traces her jaw with his fingers, trying to memorize every inch of her skin. If he had to spend another six years in the anomaly to experience this again, he would. 

When Bellamy pulls away, he rests his forehead against hers, his eyes still closed. The suns are almost completely set, with the lights from a few torches being the only things illuminating them. 

“I love you, too,” she whispers, “and I don’t know what I would’ve done if I lost you for good.”

“Don’t get too confident, we aren’t exactly safe yet,” Bellamy jokes, which results in Clarke punching him in his arm. 

“I won’t lose you again; I can’t. No matter what happens, you need to promise me you won’t leave.”

“I won’t. I promise.”

The rest of the world dissipates. Bellamy doesn’t care about anything else, because all he needs is right here. If he could freeze this moment, he would relive it over and over again, because this is the happiest he has ever felt in his life. In a way, he knows Clarke feels the same. That’s just what they are: two halves of the same person, both needed to make the body function. The heart and the head, an incomplete being without one another. 

So the two of them sit on the swing, swaying as the wind blows them back and forth, ready to experience whatever difficulties the universe has yet to throw at them––together. 


End file.
